


trans-universal constant

by Mischieffoal



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Early season characterisation, Gen, Season 1 & 2, Trans Character, Trans Michael Burnham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischieffoal/pseuds/Mischieffoal
Summary: There are things that you notice, living in the same quarters as anyone. These are some of the things that Sylvia Tilly notices about one Michael Burnham.[The title is just a bad pun and I'm sorry]
Relationships: Michael Burnham & Sylvia Tilly
Kudos: 9





	trans-universal constant

**Author's Note:**

> I just found this fic finished but needing a couple of edits in my Google Drive from two (2) years ago. Why did I never post it?? What?? So yes, this is very much from season 1/season 2 time, and characterisation fits that period and not who they've grown to be.  
> But! I'm still proud of this little fic and wanted to share it with the world, so here is some non-contemporary Disco fic!

Michael timed her steps perfectly with the automatically closing bathroom door so as to avoid disturbing Cadet Tilly. It had been a hectic week and by all logic she should have been exhausted and fast asleep, especially as a scientist unused to any peril bigger than a petri dish. Tilly looked up at the sound anyway and grinned her big smile. Michael raised an eyebrow as she put her uniform down on the cupboard next to the bed, but otherwise didn’t speak. Humans are used to Vulcan mannerisms, which meant that Michael could avoid speaking whenever she wanted. 

Tilly giggled nervously. “It’s just really nice to know that someone else in the brave and upstanding Starfleet goes to the bathroom to get into her pyjamas.” She bit her lip. “I thought it was just another one of those weird ‘me’ things that I seem to do that no one else does and no one else knows why I do it, and really I don’t know why I do it, I mean, really it would just be easier if I just did normal things, right?!” She stopped when she ran out of breath, and looked up guiltily. “Sorry, I’ll shut up.” She turned around and fumbled under her pillow for her nightclothes. She nearly ran into the bathroom, leaving Michael confused in her wake. 

Michael blinked, looked across at Tilly’s bed and decided that whatever was up with Tilly, it would take much more than an awkward and tired conversation before bed to deduce. She sighed when there was no one in the room to hear the admission of emotion and settled underneath the covers. 

Every bed in the ‘Fleet was exactly the same. Michael should be pleased by the efficiency, equality and logic behind such decisions, but she was betrayed by the unfortunate human feeling of nostalgia. The bed was just a bit too similar to her bed on the  _ Shenzhou  _ because they were all exactly the same. Michael would have almost appreciated a Black Alert to make the differences clear. 

Unfortunately, the next sound that she heard was only the bathroom door sliding open again, and there were no reality altering moments to imply faster-than-possibility travel. Tilly tiptoed back to her bed, though probably made more sound than she would have if she hadn’t been trying to be quiet. 

“Where did you get changed at the Academy?” 

Tilly squeaked in surprise. She sat down with a thump. “Gosh, you startled me!” Michael didn’t respond. She didn’t really know why she’d spoken in the first place. 

“Well, in the Academy, of course, like everyone else, I just had to get changed with all the other cadets. You know, all in one room, horrible judging looks and comments and whispers, and of course I’d try to at least get a corner, but sometimes they were gone before I managed to get there, and - well, you must have done the same, right?”

Michael gave a non-committal hum. 

“But, well, I got through that, and on ships they don’t put you through that torture, especially on ships filled with scientists and nerds who are all shy about anything and everything. So, I thought I’d be fine, you know, that it would be  _ okay _ to go and change in privacy,” she waved her arms about for emphasis even though she probably couldn’t tell if Michael’s eyes were open or not, “but, well, maybe it is okay, but it’s still not  _ normal _ apparently. So, that was just another thing on the list of ‘Sylvia Tilly is weird and here’s why I can’t room with her’ I guess, and - and - and you’re asleep, aren’t you.” Tilly sighed. “Of course you are.” 

Michael didn’t say anything to correct her. Much as she sometimes wanted to do something rash to make Tilly stop talking, the defeat in voice when she thought she was just talking to herself made Michael want to go and have words with a fair few people in Tilly’s past. 

~~~

Sylvia put her badge into the health replicator in their bedroom and it flashed in recognition before replicating her daily meds. She was on a lot less now than before the  _ Discovery _ , thanks to Dr. Culber and his understanding that most of her...thing… wasn’t illness, it was just her, thank you very much. Anyway, it was a little weird doing it with Michael in the room. Normally her roommate went from whatever random bit of the ship Lorca had her working on in the morning straight to the mess hall, rather than coming back to their quarters in between. Sylvia would ask, but she needed to save up nuggets of potentially interesting conversation to stave away the awkwardness at lunch, so she kept quiet. 

Sylvia walked over to her bed and the stand with her glass of water on it, humming to herself. She hoped it wasn’t too loud, but she wasn’t very good at judging that, at all. When she sat down, Michael got up and went over to the replicator and put  _ her _ badge in.  _ Well, _ Sylvia thought,  _ nice to know that something I do isn’t just me. _

_Oh God, but now I_ have _to say something. I can’t be all Vulcan mysteriosity like she can…_ “Dr. Culber’s great, isn’t he, with all the meds and stuff?” Sylvia said. “I know some CMOs don’t like their crew to self-medicate, you know, they make them go down to the med bay every day, and wow that would be irritating.” Amazingly, Michael looked at her as she spoke. That didn’t normally happen unless it was at meal times, but Sylvia just blathered on as she always did. “Can you imagine? Like, I have to have all of these because I’m so damn oversensitive that I’ll get a reaction to basically anything I eat otherwise - not like, allergy reaction or anything, but they can still control it.” 

“Useful to know.” Michael said. She was sitting on her bed preparing a hypo. Sylvia knew that doctors were  _ especially _ unlikely to let anyone use a hypo by themself, but that was Michael if anything was. “I won’t try and feed you anything until you’re properly dosed up every day.”

Sylvia giggled. She was pretty sure that was a joke, which was...nice. Michael lifted her uniform shirt and placed the hypo ready on her side, so Sylvia quickly looked away. When she was done she looked back expectantly. Michael glanced up at her but didn’t speak. She just tidied away the hypo stuff and fed it back into the replicator. 

Sylvia hid a little sigh under a cough as she sorted out her own meds. She didn’t know why she still expected Michael to volunteer any personal information. It took bloody long enough for Sylvia to find out that Ambassador Sarek was her  _ dad _ , for God’s sake. 

~~~

Michael was a little shocked at the sudden change in Tilly’s demeanour as soon as the comm channel to the Empire came on. In their earlier simulations, the weakest point of the entire operation had been the Cadet’s acting abilities. Michael was not, of course, dismissing this as an issue, but for some indiscernible reason Tilly had improved her performance to such an extent that it was no longer a priority. 

As soon as the transmission cut off, Michael stepped out from behind where she had been concealed. Many of the bridge crew, now necessarily composed of human crewmembers, sighed in relief, and Tilly in particular was grinning. 

“Cadet.” Michael’s voice cut through various congratulations, and Tilly straightened in the captain’s chair. “Why was your performance unexpectedly improved?”

“Compared to the simulations?” Tilly said, grinning again. “I just figured out how to be that bitchy all the time - you just act like you’re on your period!”

Many of the women, and a few of the men and otherwise gendered humans on the bridge laughed and Detmer gave an uncharacteristically loud whoop. Michael blushed, and deferred the debrief over to Lorca. 

~~~

As soon as the door shut, Michael swept the room they’d given her for bugs. She found a lot, and disabled them as discreetly as possible. She left some on so that the Terrans wouldn’t get too suspicious, but figured out a safe zone for anything she needed to do. Then, she looked around. The room was massive and ridiculously decorated. Burnham in this universe had not been a minimalist, to say the least. Michael decided that she wouldn’t look too closely at anything, because most of it she probably never wanted to know what it was made of. She slumped down on the oversized bed - nothing here caused nostalgia for ‘Fleet ships - and tried not to cry. This universe… was pretty fucking horrible. 

_ But lying down won’t do anything _ , she thought. She sat up, checked that the bugs were pointing away and was about to approach her jury-rigged safe zone when a compartment slid open under her bed. She held her breath and drew up her fists to fight, but nothing came out. Looking inside, she saw only a syringe. She lifted it out, and read the container. 

_ Oh _ .

“Culber. Culber this is Burnham, please respond. This frequency is secure, as is my location. Culber, please respond.” Silence. Michael clenched her fists, but tried again. The hypo remained untouched. “Culber, this is Burnham. Please respond. This frequency is secure, as is -”

“Burnham, this is Tilly, we’re receiving you.”

Michael wanted to ask, but time was not a commodity she could claim much of. “Tilly, I need Dr. Culber to assess a medical sample I’m sending across.”

“Culber is….unavailable, but I’ll do it myself.”

Michael groaned and hoped that the tiny emergency microphone didn’t pick it up. “Fine. They’ve provided me with the medication I would normally have to take once a day, but I need to know if an alternate-universe’s version of this medication is safe for use, or if it will conflict with what’s already in my system.”

“So if Mirror Burnham has the same meds,” Tilly said, and Michael heard the sound of a rushing turbolift in the background, “medical conditions cross universes?”

Michael paused. “We only have the signal or time for crucial reports on this frequency, Cadet.” 

Fortunately, Tilly seemed to get the message and didn’t acknowledge or apologise. “The sample you’ve sent it safe for human consumption, and for your particular health, and the computer says that it won’t cause any bad reactions with your current meds.” 

“Good. Burnham-”

Tilly interrupted. “I can only rely on computer data, because you’ve encrypted the name and actual components of the drug you sent me, and the meds you’re on now, I don’t have clearance to see.”

Michael raised her eyebrows.  _ That is unexpectedly kind of any doctor, even Culber _ . “Computer data will be fine. Burnham out.”

~~

“Sylvia?”

Sylvia nearly spat out the water she was drinking. She didn’t think that Michael had  _ ever _ called her by her first name. She quickly came back into their bedroom to see Michael sitting on her bed with her covers wrapped around her like a burrito. Sylvia had a hunch that she did that when she was missing Vulcan and its higher temperatures, but missing Vulcan was such an un-Vulcan thing to do that she’d never admit it. Before she let the bathroom door shut, Sylvia reached behind her (subtly, she hoped) and prodded the computer into raising the thermostat slightly. 

“What’s up, Michael?” She asked, as though everything was fine and this stoic human-shaped Vulcan wasn’t tucked in like a child and bandying about people’s first names. 

It didn’t seem to work. Michael was staring off into the distance, not seeing anything. “I’m a fucking hypocrite, Sylvia.”

_ Oh boy.  _ First friendly names and now swearing.  _ This is bad _ . Sylvia approached slowly, and then hovered awkwardly next to the bed. “How d’you figure that, then?” She kept her upbeat voice on because she didn’t really know what else was appropriate.

“I have rejected Ash because of a person he used to be, who he isn’t any more, and I… and I-”

Sylvia panicked, just slightly. They’d had a sort of unspoken rule that the Ash topic would remain...well, unspoken. So she’d just been bottling up her feelings like a Vulcan, and apparently so had Michael, but now she’d popped the cork. “And you?” She prompted quietly.

“And….” Michael sighed heavily and turned away from Sylvia. “And the person I used to be is the one thing I never wanted him to reject me for.”

Sylvia frowned. “That’s good and self-care and all that shit, but, like…” Sylvia took a deep breath and bit the bullet, “That’s not what you normally say about the Battle of the Binary Stars.”

“What?” Michael snapped her head back to look at her. 

Sylvia squeaked. “What?!”

“That-” Michael turned away again and drew the covers over her. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sylvia opened her mouth to ask, but really who was she kidding? The conversation had ended, and yet again she had just more questions than any answers out of her clichéd mysterious roommate.  _ For fuck’s sake _ .

~~

“Right, Miss Burnham.” Sylvia said decisively. Michael looked up with raised eyebrows as Sylvia paused the holo display. “You aren’t paying any attention to this amazing romance, so we’re going to talk instead.”

“Are we.” Michael replied.

“Yes, we are.” Sylvia turned to face her and pulled the blanket up under her chin. “We are sitting under a blanket on my bed eating non-cocoa chocolate and making stupid jokes about our friends, so it’s a perfectly acceptable time to talk.”

“In a very specific sense, that could be seen as a logical argument.”

“Thank you.”

Michael just looked at her, and Sylvia sighed dramatically. “What should we talk about, Cadet Tilly?”

“I think that, after all this nonsense, I deserve to know Michael Burnham’s big secret.”

“My… big secret.” Michael repeated slowly.

“Yes. You,” Sylvia reached over and poked Michael’s cheek, “you have been hiding something and I know it isn’t anything universe-critical or classified or anything dull like that because it’s silly little things, and no I can’t actually remember any of those things because this is just a vague sense I’ve had ever since we’ve lived in this room together, and you  _ know _ what I’m talking about.”

Michael took a bite of cocoa-free chocolate. Given that Michael was not biologically Vulcan, there was no need for allergy-specific ingredients, but Sylvia thought that at least it would remind Michael of home. “There are many things I have not told you about, not because of secrecy, but because they have not come up. For example, we have never discussed our-”

Sylvia rolled her eyes as she interrupted. “You know what I’m talking about, Michael!”

“I do.” Michael said, looking down at her lap. 

Sylvia patted Michael’s knees under the blanket. “You don’t… of course you don’t  _ actually _ have to tell me, but… I would like to know, as your friend, whatever it is.”

Michael nodded and didn’t reply for a few moments. “I am transgender.”

Sylvia’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, have I been misgendering you?! Fuck, I’m so sorry, what pronouns do you use?”

“No. No, I-” Michael groaned in a very human way and rested her head on the wall next to Sylvia’s bed and closed her eyes so that she didn’t have to look at Sylvia’s guilt-ridden expression. “When we first met, you said that you had never heard of a woman with the name of Michael, apart from - apart from me. That is most likely because there are very few women named Michael.”

There was a bit of awkward silence. “You’ve lost me.” Sylvia finally said.

“Michael was the name given to me when I was born. I’m a transgender woman.”

Sylvia paused, whatever she had been about to say stopping before she started to speak. “You-”, she drew her eyebrows together in an over-dramatic frown, “your big secret is that you’re a woman?”

Michael blinked. “Yes.”

“Well that’s just fucking dull!” Sylvia said, nearly shouting. “I knew you were a woman! I was expecting some massive reveal and this was not it!”

Michael couldn’t think of any appropriate response, so she just settled for staring in mute confusion.

“Oh, listen everyone!” Sylvia called out to an imaginary audience. “I’ve discovered the traitor Burnham’s massive secret, and it’s that she’s  _ secretly a woman _ !” She huffed loudly and played the insipid romance holo again. “I can’t believe even your secrets are so dull,” she muttered.

Michael stared at her friend for another minute to see if there would be any change in her response, and then when it seemed that Sylvia was set on being as contrary as normal Michael ate some Vulcan-friendly chocolate and returned her attention to the video. There was always a chance that she could learn something from such staged parodies of human interaction, even if Sylvia never managed to match the filmed paradigms. 

“Wait.” Sylvia said. “You did know that I’m trans, right?”

Michael spat out her chocolate.


End file.
